Animal Crossing: a Corpse Party
by Starry's Light
Summary: A little universe fills every day with the happiness of a new beginning backgrounded by the love of nine special people, a love that always has them held fast. Unfortunately, even the dearest of such relations can easily be disturbed by a single tenth villager moving in. Oneshot.


Animal Crossing: a Corpse Party

It started pristine, white, springy: beautiful. Dawn touched earth every morning under the gentle, washing influence of a light, a hope, that stained the grasses, the soils, the waters and streams and the sands upon the beach, as well as nine perfectly straight bright roofs. And every morning it started the same.

Their world set awash in color, value, light, oh, such twinkling, sparkling, effluent light. The cozy fluff of night roused off and dismissed as light shone its brilliance upon the nine simple cottages; the winding river that chugged merrily from the top-left corner of the settlement to the final stage of a waterfall to the cut-off right into shining seas; the overflow of gentle grasses and flowers; the sparkly sands sifting upon and into the fuzz of watery foam. Morning seeped into the nine joined lives and as some days began and others continued to wallow in sleep with their dreams, life was freshly set anew.

A home tinted in a shell white, precious coverings of sparkling rock dressing the trim and lining the gilded roof spouted; life warmed like a fire in the hearth of the favorably large morsel of room, a tiny black door gliding open as a male brunette's head peeped out from the slanted opening. Out he trotted on tiny male feet protected by blue slippers on springy, dewy earth.

Other characters of similar form or fashion, charged of energy for the upcoming day, exposed their soft, fleshy souls to the greeting of the morning, and, as well, set out to the start of another happy moment about to peak, just out of reach to the edge of their fingertips. The boy was one of these smiling folk; on his wending way about the heads of flowers, sprinkling a shiny, silvery watering can, he nodded and waved to the others he passed. One of them tossed her curly-haired head and smirked at him, removing a hand from behind her back and letting him see, after the _shinkle-shinkle_ of movement, the golden edition she had that he obviously did not.

Although used to this sort of treatment from this sort of girl, the boy still whined and complained to her face before resuming his peaceful and otherwise orderly stroll, winding round the patches of land and offering flowers with its needed sustenance, and grinning as he saw them shiver and swell, no doubt happy for his giving to them, and the time he put into their numerous sprouts every morning.

Once crossing the cobblestone bridge and covering the other edge of the settlement as well, the watering can was pocketed, and the boy stood into the face of the sun and gleamed before sticking a hand into the other pocket of his pants and rummaging, eventually coming up with a small portion of yellowed coins. Bells tolled, the day slowly crawled on, and the pleasant male turned round to spend his encountered wages by the market.

Inside air-conditioned emporiums and boutiques, the meager trifling of pant-lint money easily was swept away and burned in a spend for letters and fertilizer, and as the boy whistled gleefully to his leave, another male shoved past him and snickered underneath choppy yellow bangs as his more-than-slight cash weighted him down. The brunette, pathetic in this area of life as well, shrugged and smiled it off, because even though he had no actual talent in the life they all led together, he was happy, he was content.

Morning easily chugged off unto noon in the gentle mix of clouds beneath a blanket of blue sky, and the boy stopped and reached out his hands to rest on bark, gently shaking at a tree which did not drop its produce at him. Sigh. He tried again. Nothing. Another sigh. Because this happened often, he already understood to crawl up into a nook where rough branch met bark, and in the cusp of the two, gently plucked and cradled a fruit to supply as his food. Somewhere below the brash undertake of wood occurred, and stout fingers clasped oak and a short-haired female thrust her strength into the tree, forcing both fruit and the cheerful boy out unto leafy turmoil below. She squeaked and apologized and plodded off, and he eventually regained the appetite to get up and go on.

A serene calmness gave off in the atmosphere as it sunk around him and bound him in heavenly warmth that sunned him wonderfully. A tiny girl, hair kept in check by a pink plastic headband, waddled up and steered him toward the lip of the river, where each procured fishing rods and cast their thin, long lines, to which an effortless breeze passed as she gathered a plentiful range of fish and he caught naught but the nipper of a thin, fleshy, finned being, to which he tossed back into the tepid waves and rings of water bounced.

Afternoon strolled pleasantly with the boy like a friend. He strolled and gazed upon the beauty of the world to which he lived in with the ones he loved, and later stopped in a humble cafe for a spot of coffee, to which he chatted by-the-by toward a blue-haired female and her little brunette friend, both dear of his, and he tried not to sip his coffee all that much for it had been filled with ugly flavor. The duo in front of him almost lounging in their hard wood chairs seemed chased and prosperous of their wise choice in coffee; he never quite made it that far, to which the three laughed and the shes shared their drinks to him because they understood his dilemma and found it charming of him, remarkably. Ah, the gift of friendship, he mused as he left.

Puffy clouds sifted and drained color from the sky as he trounced about now, and, staring up into the fluffy abyss, found it calming. He stayed there and watched sluggish clouds chug across a blue canvas which he never quite saw, what with the world as it was then.

He later bumped into a female in high-heels who bestowed a cheery grin to him and took him by the hand and led him toward her nearby home trimmed in pink and spotted of the faces of panda bears because she oddly loved panda bears, for who knew why. A shining purple door offered his way into the studious area, where his friend plugged the door shut and, as the land about them rattled, rain gently began its course of washing nature clean. The boy and the girl sat and drew cards, and sketched drawings, and stared up at the ceiling in philosophical thought, and played with the cat, and altogether flourished the time that made its round prior to the drizzle ceasing. As it did, the boy nodded and stepped back into the dye of late-afternoon sunshine.

Finding a rather inviting tree stump, he nestled upon it and pulled out a fancy new letter, procuring his dull pencil and writing faintly to a person or so about the joy he had that day. Plucking flowers, as that was all he could offer, the flowers he watered every morning, he gently sealed them within protective envelopes that hugged their enclosed items, and sent them off to the postman for morning.

Stars began to poke into the horizon and soon enough, day rolled off and inked to night, just as it always did. This darkness felt safe and comforting, and the boy smiled at it as he went on. Another boy, his glasses flashing in the moonlight, rounded upon him, and the two strolled side-by-side for a time in the sands before the oceans until the brunette nearly fell asleep standing and the other ushered him to his house with a word or two about his foppish carelessness, to which the one tried to nod and utterly failed, snoozing as soon as head hit pillow. The second, watching from the glowing gloom, tittered gently as he tucked the fully-clothed buffoon at his bed and left in a slight very hurry. It was impossible to see his embarrassment unless one lived inside of him.

Another beautiful day had come to a close, and each of the souls, once one-by-one nestled within the safe confines of their beds, slept until what would soon come of another perfect dawn, another beautiful day set to open its curtains and welcome.

Midnight hitched, and the full, wide moon faded in the sky as a final plot burned into nature. A thrashing sort of wrestle ensued betwixt grasses and soils against the plot, snaring at it, snarling, practically, tearing, wresting, crying out in a new sort of ethereal scream as it contaminated and captured the landscape, but there it sat. Burly clouds floated and overtook the sky, and whether or not morning arrived again, nobody would ever tell.

The last thing seen of the town was the new final plot's name-plate stabbed into hearth like a sword:

 _ **Shinozaki Sachiko**_

And then the entire settlement was wiped clean off the world.


End file.
